


How to adopt an army

by lunaemoth



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Fix-It, M/M, Mandalorian Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29357049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaemoth/pseuds/lunaemoth
Summary: Ben Kenobi is back in the past and wishes to change the fate of the galaxy, starting with the clones'. For that, he gets adopted (not planned), is recruited (planned), adopts (more or less planned), and falls in love (not planned).All you need is a big family...
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 29
Kudos: 748
Collections: Jangobi Week, Suggested Good Reads





	How to adopt an army

**Author's Note:**

> I discovered it was Jangobi week a bit late. I didn’t have the time to write anything brand new, but it was a good occasion to share this drabble I had in my drafts... It matches with Day 2 - Time Travel.  
> I first published this on my tumblr and improved it for AO3, especially the ending.

Even after years of this new life, cantinas weren’t Ben's cup of tea. This one, the only one on this backwater moon from the outer rim south quadrant, wasn’t much better than all the similar ones he had visited before. 

Ignoring the motley company, he looked for Kal Skirata in a shadowed and out of the way booth. His buir had his habits. Apparently, he also had company. No matter. Ben was too tired to hang around waiting for his buir to be alone.

Kal looked up at his arrival and scooted over on the bench to let him sit by his side. Ben paused before sliding next to him. The Mandalorian in _beskar'gam_ (silver and blue armor with a dark bodysuit, a well-known combination) sitting opposite was unexpected and stole his breath away for a second.

“Ad,” Kal said, calling him back to reality, “meet Jango Fett. Jango, this is Ben Skirata, my son.”

Ben assessed Jango thoughtfully. He had met him so briefly during his previous life that it was a bit hard to guess what kind of man he was. The kind who could raise an army for money, certainly, but did he know how his clones would end? as mindless pawns in a Sith’s hand? Ben Kenobi had thought so, had believed this was some kind of revenge. Ben Skirata hoped it wasn’t so. 

“ _Su’cuy_ ,” Jango greeted him, leaning with a forearm on the table.

“ _Su cuy'gar_ ,” Ben replied. He removed his helmet and smoothed his hair back. 

“Great timing as always, Ben,” Kal said, throwing an arm around his shoulders and pressing him against his side. Ben leaned against him gratefully.

Weeks alone always left him drained physically and mentally. Too much time to think about old, dark, and lonely memories. He might not be as young as his body made it seemed, but feeling old could sometimes make you seem young to others… At least that’s how he explained Kal taking a look at an eighteen-year-old man and deciding to adopt him (that and the need to compensate for the children he had lost).

“Jango has an offer for me,” Kal explained. “Lots of money, but complete blackout for years. I was going to tell him I didn’t go anywhere without you for too long, nowadays.”

“He can come. Depends on what he can bring to the pot,” Jango said with a shrug.

“Ben is the best negotiator and stealth specialist you can get.”

“Negotiator?”

“Aggressive negotiations included,” Ben added instinctively. His heart was beating quickly. This was it. This was what he had been waiting for. The _Cuy'val Dar_ , the one hundred trainers of the clones, were being recruited. The clone army was being created. He needed to be part of this. All his planning was based on his ability to join the crew of trainers. He had met Kal Skirata for this (being adopted hadn’t been part of his plan, but it was a side benefit he didn’t regret). Breathing deeply and slowly, Ben calmed himself. “I wouldn’t say no to disappearing for a few years, actually,” he told Kal.

His buir tilted his head and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “What did you do?”

“Oh, you know… I might have killed Dred Priest… a little bit? He got in my way. So, his girlfriend might have sworn to kill me back? Yes, that might have happened,” he admitted with a shrug.

“I thought you were on a simple escort mission?!”

“Yes, and it turned out they were hired to catch or kill my clients. I suggested a compromise, but they pretended to take it and double-crossed me, so they triggered my fail-safe and got blown up,” he explained with some hand gestures. “It’s not really murder if the other one triggered a trap, right?”

“No,” Jango agreed.

“That’s just assisted suicide,” Kal concurred, “but Isabet Reau is a tenacious little _chakaar_. Couldn’t you get rid of her?”

“Well, that would be murder, _buir_ ,” Ben pointed out with a roll of his eyes. “And the rhodian family was already freaked out enough, I think.”

“So, she’s after your blood.”

“Indeed.”

“I was planning on adding Priest and Reau,” Jango commented, stone-faced.

“Well, I’m worth the two of them,” Ben said cheerfully.

“He is,” Kal promised.

**oOo Three years later oOo**

Ben fell hard. His back met the ground, and a body was immediately striding his hips, pinning him down with a secure position. After a brief struggle, Ben sighed, tapped the ground, and muttered in Mando’a: “I yield.”

Jango let him go, standing up and offering a hand to pull him up: “You’re distracted.”

Ben hummed in agreement. “I wanted to ask you a favor,” he admitted as he dusted himself.

They hadn’t been wrestling for long. It was the end of the day, and after hours of lessons and meetings, they were just trying to relax and let off steam.

“Is this about the decommissioned?” Jango asked as he walked away, removing his training gloves.

“Yes,” Ben confirmed. It was a familiar argument now. He added quickly before Jango could shut him up: “Hear me out." Ben reached for Jango, brushing his elbow to appeal to him. "I’ll talk to the Kaminoans myself. I’ll convince them, you won’t have to say a word. I’m just asking you to back me up. They won’t listen to me if I don’t have your support.” 

They had grown into good friends these last years, but they still had disagreements and weren’t equals in the little hierarchy of Kamino. Ben had to learn how to navigate this organization and to get to know everyone among it, their reasoning, and their motivations. This time, he felt confident he could negotiate things to his advantage.

Jango wasn’t a talker, and negotiations were a chore for him. He was also excellent at compartmentalizing his emotions. The clones were part of a job, and a job never encroached on his personal life. However, he wasn’t cruel and unfeeling. If it didn’t go against his job, he’d help. Therefore, Ben was hopeful this approach would work. Jango had backed Kal Skirata about adopting the Nulls (his new little brothers... a handful, all of them, but no worst than Anakin). It wasn’t much different.

The Mandalorian looked up from his gloves to consider Ben’s pleading expression. After a moment, he grunted: “Fine.”

Grinning, Ben squeezed his friend’s forearm. “Thank you!”

“I hope you know what you’re getting into,” Jango sighed.

A day later, Ben looked up from the group of clones he had managed to save from decommissioning and grinned at Jango, radiant. The kids were between one and three anatomically speaking, and they had exhausted themselves cheering when they had learned that they were adopted by “Instructor Ben” immediately renamed “ _Buir_ Ben”. Thus, Ben was now sitting with four toddlers dozing, cuddled against him. And instead of daunted, he was overjoyed. 

“You’re worse than your _buir_ ,” Jango sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “All of them, really? Dozens of clones are decommissioned each year, Ben. You can’t adopt them all.”

“It will be logistically challenging,” Ben conceded, “but I’ll make it work. I’m used to helping Kal with the Nulls, and I’m sure I can get them to help once they're older. What matters is that they’re all safe.”

He had failed many clones already, too many. Hundreds had been 'decommissioned' as the Kaminoans fine-tuned their process. Many had been inevitable because non-viable, but sometimes whole batches would be decommissioned just because they didn't fit the mold of the perfect soldier. Thankfully, as the Kaminoans improved their procedure, it happened less and less, but there would always be a few unexpected mutations. Ben had been powerless to stop this practice, until now. No more.

He was petting the hair of the youngest boy curled into his arms. He was color blind. His eye mutation was so severe that he could barely see any color and was bothered by too sharp lights. He was fond of the dark and had accepted the name of Nyx. Next to him, resting with his head on Ben’s knee, the oldest clone had a mutation of the vocal cords. He was mute, making his incorporation into a team too complicated for the Kaminoans’ taste. Ben had offered him the name of Harpo, based on the name of a mute god he had read about. The boy had indicated that he wanted it shortened, thus he was now Harp.

Jango turned around when the door opened to let in Kal Skirata. The man took a look at his oldest son and shook his head with an amused smile. 

“Well, _ad_ … It seems like you might need some extra arms to get those in bed.”

Ben smiled sheepishly. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“So, you got the long necks to give you what you wanted, uh?”

“He got them wrapped around his little finger in ten minutes,” Jango explained with a mix of respect and exasperation. “He made it sound like he was doing them a favor.”

“I am,” Ben replied serenely. “I’m sure they can all be raised into brilliant men if given the chance, and I’m offering to do it all on my own.”

“Not on your own, _ad_ ,” Kal said as he walked up to him and leaned over his grandchildren. He squeezed his son’s shoulder. “I’ve got your back.”

Smiling softly, Ben thanked him and let him lift a boy. Jango crouched to take another, allowing Ben to stand up with the last two. As they walked back to his quarters (they would need larger ones), Ben nudged Jango’s shoulder.

“They can be Boba’s playmates,” he suggested.

Jango hummed, considering, before commenting: “I’d trust your children more than Kal’s.”

“Hey. I’m also Kal’s son.”

“Precisely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ben asked, laughing.

“You’re trouble,” Jango stated, smirking.

**oOo Three years later oOo**

Ben’s back met the wall, and a body pressed against his, keeping him pinned. Ben hummed in approval and held into Jango’s shoulders. It was a shame they were still in _beskar’gam_ , he loved nothing more than the contact with his lover’s skin.

Their lips parted, leaving them breathless. Jango’s mouth slid to the sensitive skin under Ben’s ear, and the red-headed whined at a little nip.

“Jango. Bed,” he demanded, tugging gently on his lover’s short hair. “Yours or mine?”

“Boba's home.”

“Mine, then," Ben breathed.

They stumbled into Ben's bedroom, a small apartment that had been connected to many others (by literally pushing and rearranging a few walls) where his several dozen sons (a full platoon now: thirty-six, very practical for squad training) could live. The boys continued to get lessons, so none of them were currently home. It was a rare occasion when neither Jango or Ben had anything to do at this time. Soon, their sons would demand all their attention for the evening, and they would have to sneak out in the middle of the night if they wanted to have some fun together.

It was a rare occasion indeed when they could take their sweet time, and Jango used this opportunity to draw it out. He made Ben beg, but the negotiator had no trouble doing so to get what he wanted. 

Afterward, blissed out with his face pressed into a pillow, he certainly did not regret it.

"I should go," Jango sighed as he rolled away from Ben's hands. "Your brood will be back soon."

Ben muttered a token protest. Jango wasn't wrong, and if the kids caught them like this the questions would never end. Still, he already missed Jango's warmth... but he could not be bothered to open his eyes. Which was his downfall.

"What's this?"

Ben hummed questioningly. When Jango didn't develop, he grunted and opened an eye, rising on an elbow. He froze as he noticed the datapad Jango was reading. Had he really left this datapad open this morning? ... Oh, yes, yes, he might have, when he had to run to break up a brawl.

Slowly, Jango glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

" _How to adopt an army, a ten-year plan_ ," he read with a drawl. "Do I want to know if you're serious or not?"

"Mh... probably not? For plausible deniability?" Ben replied with an innocent smile.

Jango shook his head and put the datapad back on the desk. "Yeah, better not," he agreed while finishing dressing up. Once he was at the door, he threw over his shoulder: "You'll let me know my part when it comes up again, anyway."

As the door closed behind Jango, Ben tilted his head, wondering if this meant what he thought it meant. After a moment, he rose on his knees and crawled to get his datapad back. He had some changes of plan to do.

**oOo Four years later oOo**

"Master Koon," Ben greeted the Kel Dor with a pleased smile. It was so good to see a Jedi again. "You're expected."

"I am?" Plo asked with a hint of surprise difficult to notice if you didn't know him well.

"Absolutely," Ben confirmed, his smile turning into an excited grin. It was so much better to be on this side of the conversation. "Come in, I'll introduce you to my sons."

"I'm actually looking for a bounty hunter—"

"Oh, yes. You can meet my riduur as well afterward," Ben agreed with a handwave. "But first, my sons are very excited to meet a Jedi. You'll want to see them, I promise. And then, you'll have questions for the Kaminoans, of course... a lot of questions."

On the balcony overseeing the training facilities, Ben stayed back as the Kaminoans talked about their project of a grand army for the Jedi and the Republic. When Plo Koon slowly turned toward him, Ben smiled with compassion for his shock.

"Would you like to meet them?" he offered.

"Your sons?"

"Not all of them, of course. We shall start with one. His designation is CC-3636, but you can call him Wolffe. Technically, I didn't adopt him yet. I thought he might like another _buir_..."

Plo tilted his head at the mysterious trainer. While the Force was nebulous about this whole facility, it sang brightly about this Ben Skirata. "The clones... you adopted them?"

"I'm up to 576, a full battalion!" Ben informed him cheerfully. "Not all of them live with me, of course, but they can come to me whenever they want," he started to explain. "I also have brothers, nephews, and soon probably grandsons... Thus, I'd like to talk with your Jedi Council about the contracts of employment you'll offer them. I have worries, you see, my sons are not slaves..."

"Of course," Plo agreed to those last words, focusing on them to hold back his bafflement about the rest.

"Don't worry... I'll help," Ben promised peacefully. "I have a plan."

**Author's Note:**

>  **Mando'a:**  
>  Beskar'gam — Armor  
> Su cuy('gar) — Hello  
> Cuy'val Dar - literally: "those who no longer exist"  
> Chakaar - scumbag  
> Buir - parent, father  
> Ad - child  
> Riduur - spouse


End file.
